


Did I Say I'm Just A Boy?

by sherlockssexysocks



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Brief Divorce, Charles is desperate, Death, Erik is not as tough as he thinks, Erik-centric, Fix-It, Hurt, Love, Misunderstandings, Multi, Raven is torn, Romance, Violence, War, not exactly canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockssexysocks/pseuds/sherlockssexysocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“MacTaggert was the one who pulled the trigger.” Erik growls. “And we’ve dealt with her.”</p><p>“You’re the one who redirected the bullet!” Raven wails, jumping to her feet furiously. “You’re the one who knocked him to the ground and hit him!”</p><p>“And yet I didn’t see you coming to his defense!” Erik erupts, spinning around and towering over the younger woman. “I didn’t see you staying behind on the beach to save him!”</p><p>Raven shakes her head, hot tears pouring down her azure cheeks and making her yellow eyes shine even brighter.</p><p>"You shouldn't have asked us to go." She breathes. "If you had stayed no one would have left, Erik-"</p><p>"Don't call me that." He snarls, his own eyes hot and furious. "That is <em>not</em> my name. Not anymore."</p><p> </p><p>Or</p><p> </p><p>How Erik struggles with the aftermath of Cuba</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did I Say I'm Just A Boy?

There’s a rushing sound in his ears, almost as if the wind was whipping past him but there is no wind, no air at all. It’s dead air with a suffocating, dead heat that makes him long for the azure waters that surround them. His eyes are stinging and he is blinking jerkily, desperately trying to move the sand within his eyes. He can barely see Charles, the glare of the powerful sun blinding him. He’s shouting something at him and Erik realizes with a jolt that he is _begging_. To his right, he can make out the uneasy shapes of the children, each of them on edge, ready to move in if needs be and it turns his stomach when it dawns on him that they are afraid of _him_.

“I’ve been at the hands of men like this before.” Erik shouts.

His voice is raspy, _weak_. He attempts to clear it and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“Take off the helmet.” Charles pleads and his eyes have never seemed bluer.

Erik wants to drop the missiles and run to him. He wants to press the smaller man against his chest and never let him go.

But Shaw’s words echo in his mind.

_Our time is now._

He decides to tell Charles and the children as much. He can see from the scared looks on their faces that none of them believe him, save for Shaw’s men. Shaw’s men look at him with a mixture of admiration and pity.

“Just drop the missiles. They are just men following orders.” Charles says quiet enough for it almost seem intimate, like it was meant for their ears only.

“I’ve been at the mercy of men following orders, Charles.”

When Charles charges at him, Erik isn’t ready. He’s disorientated and _confused_ because surely Charles can see that he is right? How could he not? The humans had fired the first shots, had _tried_ to kill them. 

They tumble to the ground with a dull thud but it doesn’t take much effort to overthrow Charles. He closes his fists and he punches him as hard as he can because the man needs to come to his senses. He can hear Raven shouting at him, can sense the others advancing on him and it hurts to think that not one of them was coming to help _him_. He rolls off of him and jumps to his feet, stretching out his arms and taking control of the missile again. His chest is heaving and he is _exhausted_. He feels slow and sluggish and he thinks that is why he didn’t notice the bullets whizzing past his ears until it is almost too late. It is only when he turns his attention on Moira that he realizes she is shooting at _him_.

He deflects the bullets easily, forgetting momentarily that Charles is behind him. It is the broken sound that Charles makes that brings him back to reality. After that everything except Erik’s heart seems to move in slow motion. His body won’t react quick enough, his legs giving out as he crumples by the younger man’s side. He can hear the children shouting, screaming at him. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Erik repeats over and over and it is only when Charles asks him to stop that he realizes he is choking Moira. 

He drops his hold from around her neck and looks down at him helplessly.

“She did this to you.” He says as a way of explanation.

The look in Charles’ eyes tell him otherwise.

 

 

…

 

 

Erik was a boy, an innocent child, when he watched his mother sew a yellow star onto his coat. 

Because he was young and naïve, he had believed her when she told him that it was gold star for his good behaviour. There had been a brief spell when he had worn the star with pride, convinced that the strange looks from passer-by’s were simply out of envy. 

But then, people he had thought _loved_ him, abandoned him. His friends were no longer allowed play with him, his favourite shopkeeper, Herr Dieslich, stopped serving him and his kind-faced teacher, Frau Brindelegen, removed him from her classroom where he was forced to sit with other boys and girls who wore the same gold star as he did.

“What have I done wrong?” Erik used to ask his mother.

“Nothing, nothing at all, liebling.” She would whisper as they watched everyone around them leave.

Erik feels like that now, as he stands beneath the glare of the Cuban sun and watches the children reject him, one after the other. He glances at Charles one last time and _hopes_ the man can sense his desperation, can see how much he needs him.

But Charles is wincing in agony and Erik knows that, this time, he has done wrong.

 

 

.

 

 

Azazel moves them to a place that is isolated and buried so deep inside a jungle that the sun can’t shine through the thick canopy of trees overhead.

“Do not ask where we are.” Erik warns as Raven opens her mouth to speak.

He is surprised she has come with him. He had never believed she would leave Charles, not really. He glances around at the small group surrounding him and he would smile if it didn’t hurt to move. His eyes are heavy and he wants to close them, just for a little while.

“…Capitano? Are we to rest here?”

The sound of Janos’ voice startles him and when Erik opens his eyes again, he takes in the wide eyes of _children_ , all of them watching him with faces that reveal their troubles.

“This will do for now.” He says softly.

And it will. Erik knows of a place in Argentina they can move to when they have more strength, when he feels as if he can move without shattering into a thousand, splintering pieces. Raven settles down beside him and Erik doesn’t have the strength to tell her to get off of him, not when she rests her tear-stained cheek against his chest and whispers;

“Did we do the right thing? How do we know they’re okay?”

“ _Don’t._ ” He warns.

Because he can’t. Not now, not today. Not when he can still smell Charles’ blood on his hands, is still reeling from the revelation that Charles blames _him_ for what happened, not the bitch who was shooting at them. There is a lump in his throat that is threatening to consume him so he closes his eyes and ignores the way Raven cries against his chest, her arms wrapped him around him so tightly that his breathing is constricted. 

When he opens his eyes again, the forest around them has darkened considerably and Azazel is by his side, his eyes flashing in the darkness.

“They are no longer on the beach. They are safe.” He says quietly and Erik just stares at him, the weight of his words hitting him like a freight train.

“Thank you.” Raven whispers, her voice singing with admiration.

Azazel simply bows his head and crawls back to his space at Janos’ side. Erik glances around at the group and meets each of their gazes. They are all tired and dirty and hungry and he can see them all waiting for him to make some sort of a decision.

“Are we going to be staying here much longer?” Angel finally asks.

Erik looks at Azazel.

“Do you think you are capable of one more journey?” he queries.

Azazel grins wickedly and nods.

“For you, Capitano? Si.”

 

 

…

 

 

When Charles had found Erik, he had wanted to die. 

That night, in the cool waters, he had wanted to simply slip away and cease to exist. He was a failure, he had come so close and he had _failed_. He can remember feeling on edge, dangerous and desperate and ready to hurt anyone or anything that stood in his way.

But then, sure arms had wrapped themselves around his chest and he felt something warm brush through his mind, forcing him to relax. 

He wishes he had Charles with him now. He needs him to hold him close and tell him that everything will be okay. 

Because they have been hiding in this house for almost two weeks now and Erik still doesn’t know where to go or what to do. They are getting restless, he can see it. Even Raven is beginning to look at him with doubt in her eyes and Erik _can’t_ have another Xavier look at him with disappointment in their eyes.

“We need to move on.” Emma tells him one night. “They’re looking for us.”

Angel nods in agreement, an anxious expression on her face. Janos is wringing his hands behind his back whilst Azazel is watching Erik with his head tilted to the side, a curious look on his face. Erik rests his head in his hands, the cool feeling of the helmet against his skin soothing him slightly.

“There is an abandoned military base, Capitano, out by Sao Paolo. It is secluded and far away enough from the city for it to be safe.” Azazel says helpfully.

Emma watches him for a moment before nodding.

“He’s right. It’s a lot safer than this place.” She agrees.

Erik looks at Raven who nods at him.

“It’s worth a look, right? It’s certainly better than sitting here, waiting for someone to find us.” She points out gently. 

Erik straightens up and nods at his comrades stiffly.

“Alright. Let us move then.”

 

 

.

 

 

“What are we doing?” Emma suddenly snaps one evening.

It is their fourth night in the new base. They have spent the last four days like sitting ducks, no one sure of how to proceed whilst Erik racks his brains, wondering when he had become so indecisive. 

(But he knows when. It was when he decided to rely on Charles’ thoughts and wisdom to guide him.)

They are sitting in the kitchen eating some kind of stew Azazel had thrown together and Erik doesn’t want to ask what is in it, the meat tasting like chicken but too stringy to be anything but a cat. Erik looks up at the telepath and is once again extremely relieved that he has the helmet on so she cannot hear the panicked whirring of his brain as he forces it into gear.

“What do you mean?” he asks calmly, trying to buy himself some more time.

Emma pushes her bowl away and looks at him with an exasperated expression.

“It’s been three weeks, Magneto. Three weeks of sitting around and waiting for you to make a decision. We separated from Xavier in order to do what exactly? Flit from location to location and do nothing in between?”

“We’ve been regaining our strength.” He points out. “There are only six of us, Emma! What do you propose I do? Start a war? With what army?”

Emma rolls her eyes and glares around at the group.

“I know I’m not the only who feels as if they may have chosen the wrong side.” She snarls.

The others glance at her anxiously and Erik knows that they are silently praying she won’t out them. He’s too tired to be angry, too used to being abandoned to even begin to feel the hurt of her words.

“We need to start finding recruits.” Raven finally mutters, breaking the silence. “We need to start building an army as soon as possible.”

“Before that, though, we need to make some sort of grand gesture!” Emma argues. “The recruits need to see that we mean business.”

He agrees with her, of course he does. He knows that he needs to make some sort of statement, to show people that they are a serious threat. He just doesn’t know _what_ he should do.

(Because Charles was right when he said killing would not bring him peace.)

“And what do you propose we do?” Erik sighs.

“Kill Moira MacTaggert.” Emma says simply. “She’s the only human who knows we were on that beach, the only threat. She needs to be gotten rid of.”

Erik ignores the panicked look Raven sends his way and continues to watch Emma calmly.

“I’m sure Charles sorted that.” He decides.

“How do you know the telepath is still alive? Azazel says that they left the beach but when he went to see if they were at the mansion, Xavier was the only one missing.” Emma explains.

Erik can feel his gut twisting horribly and when he looks at Raven he can see the tears filling her eyes, threatening to spill over. 

“She’s a threat.” Emma reiterates with a sniff. “She needs to be dealt with.”

“You handle it so.” Erik growls. “You and Azazel.”

Azazel nods but Emma shakes her head.

“No. You’re our leader, _Magneto_. You should be the one to do it.”

Erik doesn’t need to be a telepath to see that they all agree with her. He frowns and stares at his almost empty bowl, trying to ignore the hammering of his heart against his ribcage. He is not afraid of killing, he does not fear it. What he fears is Charles’ reaction when he realizes that it was Erik who killed MacTaggert.

(If Charles is still alive, of course. And _Gott_ , is he terrified he isn’t.)

“I’ll need Azazel to teleport me.” He finally says.

Emma blinks at him once before nodding.

“You too, Raven.” He decides after some more deliberation. “I need you to shift into someone who can get us into that building.”

He can see the fear in her eyes, the look of disbelief as she realizes that she too will have a part to play. Emma raises her eyebrows at Raven, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Don’t think you’re up to it, hun?” She teases unkindly.

“She is.” Erik says firmly and his tone leaves no room for disagreement. “Of course she is. It is for the good of mutantkind.” 

(It’s not. It’s not for the good of anything but Erik can’t lose yet another family, another group of people to call his own.)

 

 

…

 

 

When his mother died, she didn’t plead for her life. She knew what was coming but she _believed in him_. She thought that he could save her. She had been reassuring and calm, hiding the panic as best she could from her trembling voice. 

Moira MacTaggert doesn’t plead for her life either but not because she knows someone will save her. She doesn’t want to give the satisfaction of knowing that she is _terrified_. 

(But Erik feels no satisfaction. He feels nothing but regret.)

“Charles-is he-?” Raven goes to ask but Erik pulls the trigger in her hand before she can get her question out.

The bullet arcs through the air and bursts through her forehead, covering them both in blood and matter. Raven reels backwards at this but Erik stays where he is, watching as her body falls to the floor. The lump in his throat is back and when he turns to Raven, her hands are clamped over her mouth and shaking, just like they were when Moira shot Charles.

“We had to.” He says hoarsely.

“N-no. We didn’t.” She gasps, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

“ _You_ chose to come with me, Raven.” He warns as he straightens his trilby. “You chose this path.”

She opens her mouth to argue but falls silent when they hear the sounds of hurried footsteps racing down the corridor.

“Azazel.” Erik calls and the teleporter and appears with a small pop.

They both grab his hands, probably a little tighter than necessary and leave the lifeless body of Moira MacTaggert staining the carpets of the CIA.

 

 

…

 

 

Erik opens his eyes and he is in a room that is familiar in a way that he cannot put his finger on. The sheets beneath him are made of silk and when he kicks them away he finds that he is naked. The room is warm and the French windows opposite him slowly leak in the sunlight of the early morning. He steps onto the smooth, hardwood floors and walks around the room slowly, blinking a little at the strength of the sun shining down on him.

“It almost makes you not want to go back, doesn’t it?”

Erik spins around and feels his heart flutter in his chest when he sees Charles, naked and wet, clearly just after stepping out of the shower. He shakes his damp hair out of his eyes and crawls onto the bed, his pert, full behind pushed out sinfully. Erik’s mouth runs dry and he wets his lips absent-mindedly as Charles stretches out on the sheets, a playful smirk on his red lips.

“Go back where?” he croaks.

“To them.” Charles says cryptically.

Erik crosses the room and climbs atop the bed, his own blue eyes sparkling with _need_.

“I miss you.” He breathes.

Charles rolls over and rests his head on Erik’s bare knee.

“You’re the one who left.” He points out calmly.

“You gave me no choice.” Erik mutters, carding his long fingers through Charles wet hair.

“ _You_ gave yourself no choice. Not after you shot me.”

The serene expression on Charles’ face turns to one of agony and the bed beneath them begins to break apart and disintegrate into sand and then they are on the beach again and Charles is breathing shallowly and bleeding out in his arms, his eyes too wet, too wide, _too blue_.

“Erik, you did this.” He pants, tears beginning to streak through the grime and sand on his face.

The sound of bullets whizzing past his ears is deafening and he shakes his head desperately, refusing to accept what Charles is saying because it will kill him, his heart will break if it is true, if he really is the one to blame.

“Charles, I didn’t-I never meant for you to get hurt, I never-”

Erik is silenced as a bullet hits him right in his forehead. He reels backwards, letting go of his grip of Charles and falls. He doesn’t land on the sand though, he falls into the ocean and the water soothes the pain in his head but crushes his lungs. He kicks out weakly and tries to push towards the top. He can see where the water breaks, where he would be able to breathe if he could just get there. But Charles is holding on to him, limp and lifeless and looking at him with wide eyes that stare. He tries to shake him off but he can’t. He opens his mouth to scream but he swallows a mouthful of water and-

“ _Jesus_ , Erik!”

Erik opens his eyes and sits up with a jolt, his hands wrapped around Raven’s wrists, gripping them painfully. Raven winces and struggles against him and Erik only lets go when he orientates himself with his own bedroom. His helmet is on the end of the bed and he releases her in order to beckon it towards him. His mind relaxes as soon as he puts it on his head and it is only then that he allows himself to breathe.

“What is it?” he asks gruffly as he kicks back his heavy sheets and steps out of the bed.

Raven raises her eyebrows at him and folds her arms across her chest.

“You woke up everyone with your shouting. I thought you were being murdered.”

(He was.)

Erik shrugs and steps into his clothes. He pulls up his trousers and ignores the heat of her gaze on his back. The door of his bedroom opens again and Emma and Azazel step in. Azazel looks between Erik and Raven curiously before bowing his head slightly.

“Frost has discovered that Xavier is alive.” He announces.

Erik spins around quickly and turns to face Emma, his eyes wide. He steps closer to her and looks at her imploringly.

“Is he alright?” he demands.

Emma gives him a bored look before shrugging.

“He’s paralyzed from the waist down but-”

The sound of Raven’s sob silences her. Erik glances over his shoulder at her and hates the way she is looking at him, her eyes full of unshed tears and resentment.

“You _paralyzed_ him.”

_I can’t feel my legs…I-I can’t feel my legs._

“MacTaggert was the one who pulled the trigger.” Erik growls. “And we’ve dealt with her.”

“You’re the one who redirected the bullet!” Raven wails, jumping to her feet furiously. “You’re the one who knocked him to the ground and hit him!”

“And yet I didn’t see you coming to his defense!” Erik erupts, spinning around and towering over the younger woman. “I didn’t see you staying behind on the beach to save him!”

Raven shakes her head, hot tears pouring down her azure cheeks and making her yellow eyes shine even brighter.

"You shouldn't have asked us to go." She breathes. "If you had stayed no one would have left, Erik-"

"Don't call me that." He snarls, his own eyes hot and furious. "That is _not_ my name. Not anymore."

Raven snorts at this and looks at him challengingly.

"Why? Because that's what we used to call you before? Because that's what _Charles_ used to call you?"

Erik swallows hard and steps even closer, his shoulders squared and his hands shaking.

"Does it hurt when you say his name? Is there a part of you that breaks when you think of him stranded on the beach, alone and wondering why his own sister chose to leave him?" he hisses.

When Raven strikes him, Erik feels as if the entire room is spinning. He staggers backwards a little and feels Azazel wrap his arms around his waist, holding him upright.

“You’re the reason we’re here.” Raven cries. “You made me believe that we were doing the right thing.”

“You’re a liar.” Erik spits. “You followed me because you thought I’d give you the love _he_ wouldn’t. You’re here because you are insecure, unlovable, insipid-”

“Stop.” Azazel demands in his ear. “Before you do something you regret.”

And Erik laughs and laughs and laughs.

(Because he has already done so much that he regrets, why stop now?)

**Author's Note:**

> So this a two-parter that is based on how Erik copes with the aftermath of Cuba and how he tries to fix what has gone wrong. I'm playing fast and loose with the storyline from the movies and it's not really following them as y'all can see! Let me know what you think, please <3


End file.
